The Assassin and Her Prince
by Lala2003
Summary: Rayla, Ezran and Callum complete their mission and bring peace to Xadia. Soon after, negotiations for the alliance begin, but certain elven traditions require interesting terms to the treaty: an arranged marriage! (rayllum)
1. Chapter One

"The Elven Court arrives tomorrow for the peace negotiations! Do you know what that means Cal?" squeals Ezran, giddy with excitement. Callum opens his mouth to answer his over excited sibling, only to be silenced as Ez decides he can't even wait for his brother's sluggish reply. "It means we'll finally be able to see Rayla again!"

If he was still showing signs of weariness, he's wide awake now.

"Oh man, I almost forgot," he grins, already buzzing with anticipation. "I haven't seen her since we crossed the border." A glazed look comes over his face. Ezran clears his throat giving Callum a pointed look. "We! I-I meant we..." -Ez raises an eyebrow knowingly- "...haven't seen her," he finishes lamely.

Ezran giggles mischievously and, deciding it really was too early to get up and too cold to be out of bed, wriggles under Cal's mass of blankets. Instinctively Callum pulls Ez into a comforting bear hug, squeezing him a little too tightly than necessary as a defiant act of revenge for his insinuations.

"I wonder what she's doing right now..."

–O–

Despite Xadia being a land of sorcery and the mystic arts, there isn't a single spell that can safely transport the entire Elven Court and enough provisions for a month halfway across the country. Rayla knows this because she is walking. The entire Court is walking and had been doing so for the past three days. It's times like these that Rayla envies humans and their domesticated horses, but her culture doesn't tolerate that kind of 'enslavement'.

If she remembers correctly from the first time she made this trip, they are approximately one day away from the human kingdom. That thought fills Rayla with both excitement and dread.

Last month, she, Callum and Ezran successfully returned Zym, The Dragon Prince, to his mother. Since then, both sides arrived at the mutual agreement that, although there has been a history of wrongs, both sides are at fault and a war would prove pointless. It was simultaneously the best and worst moment of her life. She was the hero she'd always wanted to be and yet the mission was over; she'd had to say goodbye to the two most important people in her life.

Now, she's finally going to see them again, but the circumstances couldn't be more different.

–O–

"What do you mean we aren't allowed to be part of the peace negotiations?" Callum and Ezran demand in unison.

"Hey! Don't shoot the messenger! It wasn't my call to make," protests Soren weakly. At Prince Callum's outburst the courtyard falls into a stony silence making his voice echo menacingly.

"Yeah, like you'd have made a different one had it been up to you," accuses Callum. Soren gulps. Partly because he's right; he wouldn't have. Partly because, for the first time since he was tasked with teaching Callum the art of sword fighting, he's been disarmed and at the mercy of the other's blade. Suddenly, all eyes are watching the pair with tangible anticipation. Soren shuffles uncomfortably. Looking up at Callum he can't shake the feeling of a lamb to the slaughter.

In preparation for Ezran's own training, the younger boy had begun attending his older brother's training sessions. At first this had seemed like a great idea to Soren who strongly believed if Ez proved to be even half as incapable as Cal, his life would be very difficult. Now, he's wishing he only had one angry prince to deal with. He avoids Ezran's steely gaze.

Soren opens his mouth to attempt to defend himself, "Bu-"

"Save it, Soren," Callum turns, plunges his sword in the soft earth and stalks away. "C'mon Ez."

"Training doesn't finish for another hour, where are you going?"

"To take this up with aunt Amaya."


	2. Chapter Two

When Callum finds General Amaya, she's surrounded by advisors, scribes and diplomats all vying for her attention. With the summit less than 24 hours away, the castle is in chaos. At her side stands Commander Gren. All the excitement has clearly taken its toll on the auburn-haired Commander who shoots Callum a pleading glance before hastily resuming his task of interpreting the General.

Noticing Gren's brief hesitation, she follows his gaze to the doorway where Callum lingers in uncertainty. He'd intended to demand an explanation as to why he'd been denied the opportunity to participate in the negotiations, but watching his aunt struggle to fend off the clamouring officials, his anger had dissipated.

_Hello Callum_, she signs, _welcoming the distraction._

_Hi_, he replies, now unsure how to continue.

Sensing this she prompts, _Can I help you with anything?_

He rocks back on his heels uncomfortably as, for the second time that day all eyes in the vicinity burn into his skull. Commander Gren, realizing with relief that interpreting this conversation would be an intrusion, remains silent, causing the curious stares to continue.

_I was hoping I could talk to you about the summit,_ he admits.

_We are talking_, she frowns, _If it's that important shouldn't the council hear it?_ Despite playing dumb, General Amaya already knew what this was about.

_Fine, I'll get to the point. Why aren't Ezran and I allowed to be part of the discussions? We were the ones who returned Zym. What we did is the whole reason the summit is even happening! How could we not be there?_ His frenetic gestures meant understanding sign language wasn't necessary.

General Amaya sighs. She could really do without an overdramatic teen on top of everything else. _Callum I know this means a lot to you, but you have to understand that this means a lot to everyone. Remember that you're still a child and your naivety has no place at the summit. These people murdered your father._

At her words realisation came crashing down. _You still think they're monsters, don't you? he accuses, even after everything that's happened?_

Her face is all the answer he needs. "I have to go."

Callum can't disguise the disappointment in his voice. Without looking back, he misses the wounded look in his aunt's eyes as they trace his hasty exit from the hall. Only when the vast oak doors slam behind him is she shaken from her astonished trance. Time is of the essence, she reminds herself, Callum's brooding is the least of her worries.

–O–

As the setting sun leaves the forest with a chill in the air, the elven party decide that, despite being mere hours away from the castle, it's time to make camp. Regardless of aching muscles, no one is exempt from their duties, so Rayla opts to gather kindling, abandoning her pack in the clearing with the others. The final golden rays of sun filter through the dense, leafy canopy dancing prettily on the aquamarine brook, scattering light in all directions. Exhaustion washes over her, but she doesn't care. Working the kinks from her shoulders and stretching her tense muscles, she takes it all in as if it was for the last time. For all she knows, it could be. Just like that, any semblance of her good mood vanishes. The silver binding on her wrist itches reminding her of her promise and she can almost hear Callum berating her. I thought you'd have learnt your lesson last time, He would say, shaking his head with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, I hope you know what you're doing. This time there's no baby dragon to get you out of this.

She massages her wrist and tries not to think about events of the past month, catching the traitorous tear threatening to spill from her amethyst eyes. She is a warrior; she doesn't cry. She didn't cry when the elders, stubborn and set in their ways, declared they still couldn't trust humans. She didn't cry when they came to the ultimatum that the only way to ensure peace would be a union between a human noble and an elf. And she didn't cry when the elders came to her saying that she, the elf who helped bring peace among the two nations, should be the one to unify human and elven-kind. That she should marry a complete stranger. Instead, she holds her head high, proud that she can help her people; prepared to do whatever it takes to unite Xadia once and for all.


	3. Chapter Three

When Callum doesn't return that evening, Ezran starts to worry. This isn't the first time Callum has disappeared like this, but he's never fought with aunt Amaya before. Fortunately, Ez knows exactly where to find his brother.

Since their return, Cal has taken to visiting the secret chamber where they'd originally found the egg, determined to master every spell contained within the collection of ancient texts.

On their first night back at the castle, Callum had burned every book on dark magic, swearing he would never let anyone become seduced by its power like Lord Viren had, so very few titles remain in the dungeon's private library, but after a quick redecorating, it became Callum's favourite place to spend his free time.

Yawning, he picks up a disgruntled Bait, shakes off his fatigue, and sets out in search of the older prince.

Cal is alerted to his brother's approach by the low rumble of shifting stone as the spiral staircase descends from the ceiling. He doesn't look up; too engrossed in the book lying open in his lap, the words illuminated in the soft candle light. Ez clears his throat, unsuccessfully attempting to attract his brother's attention.

"Callum," he calls, choosing to assume he hadn't noticed him yet.

"CAL!" he tries one more time. If Callum was going to be so pig-headed, then so would he. "Say hello to my little friend."

Suddenly, a white light engulfs the room, blinding the stubborn prince, who jumps, spilling hot wax over his thigh and marring the neat caligraphy of the handwritten notes.

Blinking the purple blotches from his eyes he turns to his brother and the ugly green frog still glowing in his arms.

"What was that for?" Cal splutters indignantly.

Ez snickers. "You had that coming," he insists, wiping imaginary tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Of course I did," Cal huffs in his usual brand of sarcasm, but even now, his lips quirk up in a grin betraying his own amusement.

As Callum relights his candle, Ezran shuffles across the icy stone floor, pausing to push down on the miniature statue set into the wall, sending the stairs back up to their original position and sealing off the cold draft. He seats himself so the pair are back to back, taking comfort in the warmth eminating from the body behind him.

"You know, you shouldn't be so hard on her," Ez murmurs softly. "She doesn't know Rayla like we do."

"I know, it's just...," Callum hesitates in search of the right words, "...how can we hope to make peace with these people if our own hold so many prejudices?"

The very same thought has been plaguing Ez, his reply is careful and measured, and Callum glimpses the king he will become.

"As long as we do everything within our power to make this work...," Ezran yawns, "...people will see things our way soon enough," he finishes, with a lot more confidence than he felt.

Feeling more optimistic than he had in a long time, Callum sinks into a heavy slumber; Ezran's words echoing in his mind.

–O–

Since most of the scribes had been summoned from their stations that morning in preparation for the summit, the royal library has been all but abandoned. Hidden amongst the maze of towering shelves, sits Claudia, completely absorbed in her studies. The silence is deafening, save for her soft breaths. Just the way she likes it. Having woken up early, eager to consume the reading material, her eyes feel heavy and she yawns, turning the page.

Just as she's about to drift into an exhausted stupor, she's jolted awake by Soren's sudden and overdramatic entrance. Her chair tips backwards sending her careening into the precariously stacked pile of books behind her. Cursing her brother, she attempts to extricate herself from the avalanche, but her efforts only result in further destabilizing the surrounding stacks, which collapse, entombing her in a paper prison.

"Claudia!" Soren wails, heading towards the source of the loud crash.

Maybe if I just ignore him, he'll leave me alone, she thinks from under the mountain.

"Claudia, are you in here?" he's standing where she was seated moments before, but she's buried under so many layers that she's obscured from his view.

She considers ignoring him but, remembering her predicament, she calls out to him despite herself. "I'm here," she groans.

Forging a path through the fallen books, he carefully picks his way towards his sister. Pulling her free, he offers a lopsided, apologetic smile. Unimpressed, she shoots him an irritated glare, smoothing out the newly-formed wrinkles in her sleek, ebony dress.

"What do you want?" she sighs. Soren only comes to her when he needs something, and this time is no different. She doesn't mind; it means he still needs her, and that thought lifts her spirits. Her smile quickly morphs into a wince and she rubs her bruised coccyx, remembering why she was mad at him.

Affronted he asks, "Why do you always assume I want something?"

She raises a brow sceptically.

"Ok, maybe this time I do," sensing the urgency in his voice, she gestures for him to continue. "The Elven Court will arrive any moment..," he pauses for what Claudia can only assume is dramatic effect, "...but no one can find the princes."


	4. Chapter Four

Soren has to physically drag his sister away from the library to get her to help search for the Princes. Stupid bookworm, he thinks. She pounds her fists on his back as he carries her fireman-style down the hallway, her protests falling on deaf ears.

"So, do you have any idea where they could be?" he asks, once he has set her down.

Pursing her lips in a way that makes Soren wish he'd left her alone, she wracks her brain, trying to think like her childhood friends.

"I have one idea, but you're not going to like it."

"Why would they be in dad's study?" the condescension in Soren's tone doing nothing to improve her mood. "Besides, I've searched this place twice already," he says, trying to disguise his desire to leave. Being in here makes him uncomfortable and he tugs at his collar tying to relieve the lump of emotion in his throat.

Then, Claudia pulls open the huge, gold framed painting fixed to the wall, revealing the stone passage behind. Soren's rare silence is enough to let her know that he's impressed.

He's hesitant to follow her as she slips inside, but curiosity gets the better of him and he let's her lead him through the dim corridors. By the time they arrive at a dead end, his patience is already wearing thin.

"Great. Dad had a secret tunnel. We both know he kept a lot of secrets, but I don't see how this helps us find Callum and Ezran," he remarks wryly, the stress making him antsy.

"You will," she tells him cryptically, turning to the cobblestone wall, covered in ominous red stains.

She then proceeds to push the stained bricks in some sort of pattern, muttering something about rocks and stones under her breath. Once she inputs the correct combination, the floor shifts and rotates, exposing the entrance to their father's secret laboratory.

In spite of his previous scepticism, Soren knows the boys are inside. A lone candle casts a warm glow up into the passage, yet no sound indicates their presence. Leaving Claudia to take the lead again, he watches her disappear into the mysterious room and signal for him to follow, one slender finger pressed to her lips.

They find Cal and Ez sprawled out on the floor, fast asleep. Callum's hand rests on his bare stomach, where his shirt has ridden up in his sleep, revealing toned abs that make even Soren jealous. What had happened to the puny kid who thought sweeping the leg was a legitimate sword fighting technique? Ezran, on the other hand, is drooling on an unfortunate glow toad that he's using as a pillow.

Claudia sports a mischievous grin that Soren knows can only mean trouble as she does her signature nose tap conspiratorially. At least this time he isn't her victim. Using her index finger, she draws a magical rune with light, summoning a flood of water. It stays suspended mid-air until she utters the trigger word in the ancient draconic tongue and gravity kicks in, soaking the unsuspecting bodies below.

"whawassat?" yelps Cal, disorientated and not yet fully alert.

Sitting up too quickly, the princes knock heads with a hollow thump, recoiling in pain. Finally registering the situation, they turn their furious glares to the older siblings who are trying in vain to stifle their laughter.

"What time is it?" mumbles Ez, still half asleep, rubbing his forehead where a purple bruise was forming.

"Time to to leave," Soren says, barely containing his obvious amusement at the others' expense. "The entire staff, crown guard included, are looking for you," realising the implications, he's suddenly uncharacteristically serious. "If you aren't there to welcome the elves, it could be taken as a serious insult!"

Schooling her features so her face reflects the severity of the issue at hand, Claudia helps the boys dry off using her wind magic. Like a mother hen, she attempts to fix Ez's unruly hair; the spell doing nothing to help his bedhead. Defeated, she abandons her efforts and hastily escorts the still-soaked princes and hysterical crown guard towards the exit.

–O–

Rayla knew their arrival would be an important moment, crucial to the journey towards peace, but nothing could have prepared her for the ceremony that awaits them at the palace.

For the last couple of miles, the elven party has been joined by human chaperones, who, while superfluous to requirement, accompany them as a gesture of peace. As they near the bridge leading to the front gates, ushers welcome them and lead them inside the castle grounds. Assembled inside the foyer, servants, officials and the entire high council stand by, ready to formally greet each of the elven diplomats, all decked out in the finest traditional robes of Katolis. Where their monarch would have stood, stands General Amaya, equally as intimidating as the first time they met, despite the lack of armour. To her right, Commander Gren and on her left, Callum and Ezran. Returning their goofy grins with a smile, brighter than she though she was capable of, she takes in their dishevelled appearances. Looking as though they had recently lost a fight with a storm, both boys have windswept hair stubbornly sticking up at odd angles, each failing in his attempts to smooth it down, panting as if they had sprinted to the welcoming and attempting to surreptitiously wring out the corners of their soaked shirts. Biting back her laughter at the young princes' antics, she is struck with a sudden epiphany; whatever the summit may bring, Rayla is glad to be reunited with her friends.


	5. Chapter Five

Until now, Callum had never realised how much Rayla's happiness meant to him, but seeing her soft features lighted by a smile he feels a surge of inexplicable joy. In the same moment, he comes to the life-altering realisation; he is so screwed. He barely takes note of the ceremony as it unfolds before him, consciously ignoring Ezran's smirking at the dopey grin he's sure is plastered on his face. He can only watch her as she gracefully makes her way around the room, exchanging bows with each member of the high council until she comes to a stop, directly in front of him. As a show of respect for their fallen king, the elven representatives journeyed to the human kingdom, in kind, their hosts choose to bow first. Rayla returns Callum's low bow with one of her own, drawing the welcoming to a close. After a chosen speaker from each nation delivers a short speech on what they hope the alliance can achieve, General Amaya organises for the elves to be shown to their respective quarters. Discussions would begin later that day but first, it was agreed that the party should freshen up after their long journey.

Lifting Rayla's pack from her shoulders and on to his own, Callum starts towards the exit. "Ezran and I will show Rayla to her room," Callum interjects, casually dismissing the servant girl assigned to the young moonshadow elf.

Visibly relived, she nods, "As you wish, your highness."

The assembly funnel out of the foyer followed by the three heroes who lag behind, bringing up the rear.

"How was your journey?" Callum asks, hoping he sounds suave.

"It made a nice change using the front door," she jokes, but when no one laughs, she adds, "too soon?"

"Too soon," they agree, but this time, they release light, easy chuckles; it was good to have her back.

Slipping back into their usual camaraderie, they reminisce all the amazing moments of their journey, but Callum has always been able to tell when Rayla's holding back and her forced smile isn't fooling him. It's only once they've stopped outside her room and she reaches up to tuck a tuft of snow white hair behind her pointed ears that he spots it, glinting in the morning sun, partially still hidden by her sleeve. His arm shoots out catching her wrist before she can attempt to hide it.

Pushing up her sleeve so it no longer obscures her silver band, he fixes her with a steely gaze. "Rayla, what is this?" Callum questions sternly. He thought they were done with secrets. Did she still not trust him?

Panic rises in her chest and she pulls her wrist from his grasp, as if she'd been burned. She can't answer him. She can't tell him about the binding, not yet. Hating herself for her actions, she scrambles for the door and slams it shut behind her, resting her head on the solid oak panels of the doorframe, wishing her reprieve could have lasted just a little bit longer.

"Why am I such an idiot?" Callum asks, rhetorically as he collapses onto his large bed. Although his two years away have sculpted his body into a picture of physical strength, he's no closer to understanding the female psyche.

Haunted by the vulnerability that looked so out of place on her strong visage, he knows there's more she's not saying and he refuses to believe she could ever accept another assassination contract, but he can't figure out the missing link. Ezran is just as shaken as Cal, but he sits in quiet contemplation, mulling over her reaction.

"How about instead of beating yourself up about it, you try talking to her?"

Ezran thinks that this would be the obvious solution.

"I just... can't," Callum shoots, but he's unable to justify his reasoning.

Processing his emotions is not one of Callum's strong points and his usual outlet, magic, would prove disastrous as he had quickly learnt that emotionally inept teens and sorcery was a volatile combination. Instead, he slings his towel over his shoulder and heads out, towards the hot springs. At this time of year, it's exactly what he needs to clear his mind so he leaves, without another word.

Rayla knows she has to be the one to tell them the truth, but when opportunity had presented itself, rather than having her friends know she's getting married, she lets them believe she intends to kill someone. Somehow admitting it to them makes it real, but as the hours until the summit vanish, it gets harder and harder to escape the truth. Tonight, when each party presents their terms, the fate of Xadia and Katolis rests on her shoulders. Again.


	6. Chapter Six

A warm, spring breeze drifts through the secluded clearing, ruffling Cal's tousled hair. The steady lapping of water against rock, keeping time with his heartbeat, does nothing to steel his nerves as his mind generates every possible worst case senario as to why Rayla would have bound herself.

Even once the discussions had begun, Callum doesn't return to the adjoining royal quarters. His mind is still in turmoil and not even the cleansing waters can wash away his troubles this time. Sighing, he leans further back in the steamy spring, submerging his entire muscular torso. He shouldn't be here. He should be at the Summit with Rayla and Ezran, finishing what they started.

–O–

Of all the topics covered in the initial briefing, the final term, proposed by the elves, is the only one that matters to Rayla right now. So far, none of the requests from either nation has been strongly objected to, but fearing this demand could further stretch their already strained relations, she shuffles uncomfortably in her chair at the large circular table.

Pushing aside a stack of important documents and producing a single sheet of paper, outlining the mariage preposition, the head elven diplomat aproaches the subject with caution.

"Our elders have expressed... concerns about the strength of this alliance. One of our oldest and most sacred traditions of our people could provide a solution to resolve this issue; a unification between a human noble and our own elven hero; a marriage," she pauses to let that information sink in. "By next sundown, if no human candidate has been selected, we will choose for you... or trust can not be guaranteed between our nations," she passes the gilded contract to the high council to inspect.

They whisper in hushed tones, occasionally looking up to inspect Rayla, presumably assessing what qualities their candidate would require to be a good match, making her feel objectified and inadequate. After a long moment, they nod their heads in quiet agreement with the request, as if declining was an option.

For the first time, Rayla is glad neither of her friends are involved in the discussions. This way they won't be disillusioned.

–O–

It was a rare occasion to see every seat at the royal dining table filled and Amaya is reminded just how lonely her nephews must be. She feels a pang of guilt for the fact that she only visits now to lead the negotiations, but, should they be a success, she would no longer be needed at The Breach and could take up a station closer to home. That thought brings her solace, despite her impossible task.

Every noble in the kingdom of Katolis had been invited to the castle for the alliance. Nearly all had accepted, showing their support for the treaty, but scanning all of the pompous faces gathered in the main dining room, assembled for the opening banquet, General Amaya knows none of them would be suitable for the mariage proposal. At first glance, many of the young heirs or heiresses seem to be ideal candidates, but upon closer inspection, Amaya realises they're too close minded and unwilling to make any personal sacrifices, lest they stand to gain anything themselves. Sighing, she resumes her mission of selecting a suitor for her former enemy.

–O–

Commander Gren is particularly proud of his seating plan for this evening as everyone appears to be engaging in friendly chatter between neighbours, human and elven alike. He knows he's done a good job, if the appraising smile he receives from his closest friend is any indication, but his mood plummets as he watches her face fall the instant she thinks he isn't looking. He furrows his brow in concern, regretting seating her opposite and wishing her could support her, at her side where he belongs.

Suddenly, the room falls silent and all heads turn to a figure at the door, joining the feast fashionably late.

–O–

Since the palace became Callum's home, he had never once seen the dining room as lavish and sophistically decorated as it is now. Ornate, silver candelabras illuminate the vast array of silverware arranged on the spotless, pristine table cloth, embroidered with the Katolian crest and hand stitched crimson finishes at each corner. The finest wines available to be decanted into solid gold goblets, polished to reflect the warm candlelight. Each place setting was not complete without an expensive porcelain plate, waiting to be filled with delicious meals carefully selected from an extensive menu, to suit all tastes.

All that pales in comparison to Rayla's beauty. She's wearing a form fitting midnight blue evening dress that accentuates her hourglass figure. As she approaches, he notices the fabric of her dress is like nothing he's ever seen before, enchanted with eleven mystical arts, appearing to shift and change, mesmerizingly. Speechless, he rises from his seat, sliding out the empty one between him and Ezran, like the gentleman he was raised to be. She opens her mouth to attempt to explain her actions earlier, but remembering how to form coherent sentences, Callum whispers reassuringly, telling her the only thing she needs to know.

"I trust you."


	7. Chapter Seven

Resigning herself to the very real possibility of failure, Amaya sinks further into the squishy upholstery of her chair. Pleasant thoughts of spending more time with her nephews slip through her fingers and she sighs, praying whoever the elves select would accept the responsibility.

Just as all hope seems lost, the moonshadow elf in question appears in an exquisite deep blue evening gown. She's captured the attention of every occupant of the room, evident by the heavy silence. As she walks, Amaya realises she's headed directly for the Princes, who beckon her over, pulling out her chair. The casual hum of conversation builds up once again, but Amaya continues to intently watch their exchange with intrest. She's never seen Callum act like this before and she understands the reason why he refuses believe elves are monsters; he's in love with one. Oblivious to the fact that she's already promised, Callum had fallen for the only woman he can never have. She watches as her eldest nephew leans in to whisper something in Rayla's ear. His lips obscured by her long, wavy hair, preventing her from intruding. Whatever he had said causes her to melt onto a puddle of goo and Amaya knows the elf returns his feelings. Suddenly a crazy idea starts to form in her mind; what if they could be together?

She catches commander Gren's eye, who, noticing her drastic change in mood, connects the dots. Realisation dawns on his face and he starts to shake his head fervently, attempting to convey his disapproval. Amaya chooses to ignore him, resolving to nominate her nephew at the next assembly, certain he would thank her one day.

–O–

Long after the feast had ended, but not before Callum had extinguished the lamp glowing beside him, he sat at his desk working on his latest sketch, shrouded in darkness. Carefully adding in the final details, he evaluates his drawing critically. To him, it doesn't hold a candle to the real thing and he sets about erasing each imperfect curve.

A tap at the window startles him, distracting him from his task. Instantly recognising the shock of white hair, he hastily pushes the sketch aside surreptitiously closing the leather bound book before unlatching the window's clasp and allowing Rayla to sneak inside.

She tries to greet him, but he quickly covers her mouth with his hand, using the other to point to where Ez lay asleep in the next room.

"He's a light sleeper," Cal whispers. Then, realising his hand is still silencing her, he pulls away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Smooth, he thinks.

"I just wanted to thank you, for earlier," she takes a deep breath, having never been very good at expressing her feelings. "It meant a lot," she adds quietly.

Smiling earnestly, he puts a hand on her shoulder, comfortingly, "I meant it. I should have told you this sooner, but whatever this means," he gestures to the band, "I'll be there for you."

Wanting, more than anything to close the gap between their chests and feel his strong arms encircle her, she avoids his gaze, a pink blush dusting her cheeks. Somehow, Callum was more charming when he wasn't even trying. Now, because of her promise, they could never be together and nothing he could do was ever going to change that.

"But what if this time, you can't?" She whispers voice catching in her throat.

Before he even has the chance to reassure her, she turns and flees sprinting out the window, into the night, leaving him standing alone and confused.

–O–

To say Callum was surprised when Opeli came to his door the next morning, requesting his presence at the meeting that he'd previously been told he had no place at, was an understatement. Unable to get a straight answer from anyone, he decides to not look a gift horse in the mouth and eagerly dresses himself in his best navy shirt and red neckerchief.

As Cal enters the remodeled war room, he tries to decipher the odd looks he's receiving from the members of each council. Hating being in the dark yet again, he turns to question his aunt, but she's deep in conversation with the head elven diplomat. He notices Rayla, already seated, brow furrowed in concentration. She momentarily glances up and Callum watches a thousand emotions dart across her face as she processes the new development, finally settling for what Cal perceives to be a hopeful expression. Just as he takes a stride towards her, Opeli grabs him by the shoulders steering him in the opposite direction.

Seats are filled and the low level buzz filling the room dies down as the summit commences.

Someone clears their throat arresting the attention of the entire assembly. "The first point the court would like to review is whether or not a candidate has been selected," begins an official looking elf that Cal doesn't recognise.

Commander Gren observes Amaya's response and proceeds to interpret, "We have heard your concerns and, as a show of goodwill, we have chosen Prince Callum to represent the kingdom of Katolis in this unifica-,"

"Wait, what? Will someone please tell me what's going on?" interrupts Cal, mind racing to catch up to his mouth. Assessing the disgruntled faces dotted around the room, he wishes he hadn't spoken out of turn like he did.

"I assume this is the first he's hearing of this arrangement?" inquires the same elderly elf.

Caught off guard, Gren attempts to recover for Amaya. "We thought it best he did not-"

"Arrangement? What arrangement?" Cal's confused tone proves their suspicions.

"Does this mean he does not accept?"

Clearly frustrated at being so openly ignored, Cal all but yells, "Accept what?"

"If so, we will choose another," reminds the elder.

Confident Amaya knows her nephew well enough for her plan to pay off, she signs her response, "Ask him."

Finally turning to the confused prince, he asks, voice deadly serious, "In the intrest of guaranteeing the alliance, you shall wed one of our own. Prince Callum, will you take Rayla as your future wife?"


	8. Chapter Eight

The room instantly falls silent, save for the sound of Rayla facepalming, shaking her head exasperatedly.

Throat suddenly dry, Callum rasps, "Do what?" rather ineloquently, doing an incredibly realistic impersonation of a goldfish.

Removing her half moon spectacles and folding them neatly in front of her, the head elven diplomat intervenes before things get out of hand, "Considering this new development, I think it best your... attempt at choosing a candidate be ignored and we proceed to review the default suitor we have selected in the case of this eventuality. After examining the noble bachelors-"

"I'll do it," Callum declares passionately, surprising even himself.

Intrigue eclipses any resentment directed towards the young man following his outburst.

"Pardon?" Inquires Opeli, clearly not expecting this result.

"I'll do it," he repeats quieter, but no less sure of his decision, "I'll marry her. For peace," he adds, blushing. She's going to kill me for this, he cringes.

Amaya stands and starts to sign, smacking her Commander on the back of his head when he remains in astonished silence at this turn of events.

"Then the matter is settled. We shall celebrate the engagement at the masquerade ball this evening," he translates hurriedly.

Nodding, the elven representatives allow discussions to continue, as if the decision made was just another goal accomplished. Throughout the rest of the meeting, Rayla refuses to make eye contact, instead, staring intently at the fabric of her dress. Neither she nor Callum are spoken to again; their usefulness fulfilled in the eyes of their elders. A few hours of monotonous trade deals, boarder agreements and lots of cups of Hot Brown Morning Potion later, the meeting adjourns and the officials file out, leaving Rayla and Callum alone.

Rayla is the first to speak, hostility masking her fear, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I got you mixed up in this mess! I didn't mean for this to happen... I just-"

Callum pulls her into a tight hug, cutting her off mid sentence, "Don't," he says firmly, "don't apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for. If this is the only way to placate the elders then... I'm glad it's me! At least this way you won't be miserable," she doesn't make a sound but feeling a telltale dampness on his shirt he continues, "I promised I'd be here for you," he whispers soothingly, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.

She clings to him, burying her face in his broad chest and finally surrenders to the emotions she's been suppressing for so long and sobs quietly, melting into his embrace.

–O–

Ezran has been laughing continuously for ten minutes straight since Cal had stumbled back to his room bearing news of his impending nuptials. Callum, who had long given up his attempts to quieten his brother's roaring laughter, flops face down on his bed and covers his ears with his pillow, failing to see how this situation was in the least bit funny.

Finally gaining some composure, Ezran confirms between gasps, "...married. You're getting married. Pfft... to Rayla. Oh, this is too good!" he then collapses into a fit of giggles, unable to manage another sentence, ducking the pillow Cal aims at his head.


	9. Chapter Nine

Calm down, thinks Rayla, don't panic. Granted, you managed to get yourself engaged to Cal, but who hasn't accidently roped their best friend into marrying them for peace? So what you're head over heels for him, but you know he only sees you as a friend? So what I've probably just ruined his life? Wait, where was I going with this?

Rayla is on the brink of a major breakdown; one disaster away from complete catastrophe. She's almost ready for the masquerade ball this evening, having taken substantially longer then expected to apply her eye makeup, trying to disguise her red puffy eyes that had yet to subside. A navy, lace mask lays on her dressing table, taunting her, reminding her that she needs to leave her quarters soon. She stands in front of her gold full length mirror admiring her reflection andtries to decide between a silver choker and a moonstone pendant, I wonder which one Cal would prefer...

"Callum is one lucky guy." Ezran's voice cuts through the deafening silence that was beginning to drive Rayla insane.

She can see his reflection in the mirror, but still turns to face the little prince, restraining a scoff.

"So he told you, huh?" She asks hoping he doesn't notice her voice waver.

If he has, he doesn't let on. "He tells me everything," Ezran replies. "He's also under the impression that you're mad at him."

Unconvinced, sheretorts, "Me, mad at him? He should be furious at me for getting him caught up in my problems."

Neither speak for a moment until out of the blue, Ez says, "You love him, don't you." It isn't a question.

Caught off guard, Rayla doesn't deny it, but dismisses him nonetheless. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't love me."

"You can tell by the way he looks at you, he does," Ez smiles.

"Not the way I love him." She sounds defeated, having accepted long ago that nothing would ever happen between them.

"You two are hopeless,"remarks Ez, throwing his hands in the air. "C'mon Bait, let's see if wecan sneak some jelly tartsfrom thekitchen." Before he leaves, he givesRayla one more piece of advice, "Cal thinks moonstones bring outyour eyes."Then hesprints from her room, snickering.

–O–

Normally, at these kinds of events, Callum would seek out his aunt and spend the evening intently listening to herthrilling battle stories. In fact, it was these stories that had inspired him to learn sign language in the first place. However, this evening, Amaya was deliberately avoiding him, wisely keeping her distance until her nephewhad cooled down.Since he and Rayla areexpected to take the first dance, he waits awkwardly at the bottom of the grand staircase, unsure what to do with himself until she arrives.

He doesn't have to wait long before she appears at the top of the stairs, a picture of ethereal beauty. Tonight, she wears a silver, strapless ball gown, with a sweetheart neckline paired with long,fingerless lace gloves reaching her elbows and a matching lace mask.Her hair is pulled into an elaborate bun, revealing shiny moonstone earrings that compliment the pendant hanging from her neck.Picking her skirts up, she slowly makes her way towards him, one hand resting on the banister to stop her from stumbling in her elegant kitten heels.

Grateful for the mask covering his crimson blush, Cal offers his arm which she takes, knowing their every move is being watched. The ballroom has fallen into a stunned silence at their familiarity towards one another that both Rayla and Callum are acutely aware of.The head eleven diplomat joins them at the front, her confident voice filling the room.

"As you all know, negotiations for the peace alliance couldn't be going better and that is in no small part due to the efforts and sacrifices made by prince Callum of Katolis and Lady Rayla of Xadia," gesturing to the teens beside her,she smiles brightly, inspiring hope for a better futurein the hearts of both nations."So tonight, it is my great honour to presentthe new couple as the face of unity and peace. Please stand for the opening dance of the first annual alliance masquerade ball!"

The moment she finishes speaking, the orchestra starts up a slow waltz and Callum leads Rayla to the centre of the dance floor, buther panic stricken face tells him something's wrong.

Concern lacing his tone he whispers so only she can hear, "Rayla, what's wrong?"

Her breath is warm on his neck, and shesheepishly admits,"I can't dance."


	10. Chapter Ten

Rayla pulls away from his ear to meet his gaze and pouts when she mistakes his look of amusement for mockery.

"I'm serious, Cal. What do I do?" Stress is evident in her plea.

With the smirk she knows all too well tugging at the corner of his mouth, he places his hands boldly on her hips and mouths, "Follow my lead."

Dancing is one of thefew princely skills Cal has become relatively adept at, but even an expert would struggle to keep time with an uncoordinated elf constantly stumbling over her own feet. Realising he needs a different approach, Cal sweeps Rayla off her feet and sets her down so she's standing on his, pulling her tighter so she won't slip. Relief floods through the pair as they finally manage to glide across the ballroom floor in perfect harmony with theorchestra. She wraps her arms around his neck with a smile of delight playing at her lips; lost in the moment.

All to soon, the song ends and other couples surround them, filling the dance floor, eagerly awaiting the next waltz.Spotting Amaya,Cal darts off, politely excusing himself and promising to come find her after speaking with theGeneral.Only then, when disappointment pools at the pit of her stomach, does Rayla realise how much she enjoys being in Cal's arms and longs to feel is embrace once more.

Callum waits until Amaya has finished speaking with a group of eleven elders before he ambushes her. Everything about his demeanour emanates calm, but Amaya doesn't let her guard down.

_Thank you, for protecting her_, is all he signs before disappearing into the crowd, his simple words speaking volumes.

Amaya knows her nephewis sensible and level headed,yet thisstill comes as a surprise.Her moodnoticeably improves as the tension in her airsdissipates.The weight on her shoulders is lifted; the rift between them, healed.

Gasping as Cal grabs her hand andtwirls her towards him, Rayla giggles, internally questioning her sanity for acting in such a girlish manor; she's a warrior, not a lovesick puppy.

"Come with me, I want to show you something," Cal says in a low voice that Rayla can't deny.

Even if she'd thought he hadexpected an answer,he still wouldn't have received one, she's too busy focussing on putting one foot in front of the other, but atRayla's unusual complacency for him to lead her blindly through the palace's winding halls, Cal hasall the confidence and approval he needs to continue.

Finally she had to ask, "Where are you taking me?"

Cal just chuckles mysteriously and continues to drag her to some unknown, far off location. Bursting into the cool night air, Cal gentlypulls her towards a rose bush archway leading into a gorgeous secluded garden fullof exotic flowerseverycolour under the sun, from vivid green to luscious, hot pink.Speechless, Rayla absorbs her surroundings, savouring every second, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of nature. She puts her hands to her mouth, pure emotion welling up inside her. Suddenly, she hears Callum's voice closer than expected, with a hint ofbashfulness in the way he speaks.

"So, do you like it?" she can only nod. "You haven't seen anything yet."

She turns to face him just as he finishes drawing a glowing rune in the air,forming a ball of light in his palm.He speaks the trigger word, releasing the spell from his hand, sending thousands of orbs of light into the air, twinkling like stars and illuminating every leaf and petal, infinitely intensifying the garden's beauty. Rayla's eyes twinkle, reflecting the magical light, but Cal's remain fixed solely on the stunning elf standing before him.

"It's beautiful."


	11. Chapter Eleven

Even from where Rayla and Callum sit on the bandstand floor, surrounded by an enchanting garden, deep in conversation, the faint sounds from the distant ball, long forgotten, can be heard, rising up from the heart of the palace complex. Cal is balancing his open sketchbook on one knee, occasionally looking up from his work to his oblivious subject and tweaking his picture to reflect her perfection. The conversation flows easily; Cal's wry sarcasm mixed with Rayla's bare-faced honesty means there isn't a dull moment.

"Can I see?" Rayla asks, innocently reaching for the leather bound sketchbook.

Pulling the book from her reach, Cal tries not to let his panic show, but it comes out harsher than expected, "No!"

Undeterred, she makes another grab for the book, this time succeeding and playfully swatting away his hands as he attempts to retrieve his sketch before she sees. Finally surrendering, he slumps back against the bandstand railings, a red blush painting his cheeks, This is it, I'm so dead, he groans internally. When she doesn't say anything, he starts to picture every conceivable method of punishment she might use against him. Hearing the pages of his sketchbook turn, his mortification consumes him and he wishes he could disappear.

"Cal, these are amazing," she breathes. He had not been expecting that.

Every page was filled with detailed sketches of Rayla, each a labour of love, capturing her ferocious beauty. Some had been refined with water colours, enhancing the realistic vibrancy captured in his artwork. Turning to one of his earliest drawings, she gasps reading the caption neatly printed beneath. It read, the most beautiful woman in Xadia. Her eyes dart to Cal's bashful form resting against the railing, avoiding her gaze. Suddenly Rayla knows what she has to do to fix this.

Leaning in so their faces are centimetres apart, she wraps her arms around his neck, softly pressing her lips to his. When he doesn't return the kiss, her eyes flutter open, tears welling, blurring her vision.

Fearing she misread his actions, she stammers, "I- I'm sorry. I thought-."

His mouth stifles her words as he initiates a passionate kiss, pinning her against the railing, protecting her head with his hand. She tastes like sweet moonberries.

"I thought I told you not to apologize," he murmurs against her lips when they break apart.

He draws small circles on her cheeks with his thumb, cupping her face and she lovingly leans into his touch.

"I'm in love with you, Rayla," Cal confesses. The earnest expression on his face melts her heart.

"I love you too."


	12. Chapter Twelve

From the moment she wakes up that morning, Rayla can't wipe the happy smile from her face. Since she first arrived at the castle, she has never been so eager to get ready for the day to come, but she can't wait to spend the entire day with Cal as they no longer need to attend the lengthy discussions. And, for the first time in what Rayla considers to be far too long, she doesn't have to wear an uncomfortable, and not to mention, incredibly impractical dress. Once she's pulled on a simple, but still very pretty set of clothes and braided her hair off her face, she briefly admires herself in her full-length mirror before she sets out in search of her fiancé.

After a few minutes of fruitless searching, she bumps into Ezran in the hallway, who appears to actually be losing a game of hide and seek with Bait. Ezran happily agrees to help her find Cal, provided she helps him track down his pet first and, knowing it was only a matter of time before the glow toad in question gives away his position with his namesake shine, she agrees with little persuasion; finding Cal was incentive enough.

"Last I saw, he was headed to the blacksmith. I'll take you there if you want," Ez offers brightly, Bait snuggled in his arms.

Without waiting for a reply, he grabs her hand and drags her towards an annex where a plume of grey smoke rises up from one of the many, tall chimneys. The royal blacksmith is equipped with a dozen large furnaces and every weapon-crafting tool known to man, but these lay discarded, replaced by mundane, cooking apparatus the smithy has been tasked with producing instead. The raw smell of coal and molten iron, like earth and fire, drifts from the stone structure. As Ez leads her inside, she's hit by an intense heat emanating from the lone furnace; the bellows manned by a figure wearing a long leather apron, a pair of thick protective gloves and round, tinted goggles. Smothering a snicker at Cal's odd appearance, she picks her way through the disorganised filing system arranged on the floor, courtesy of the royal blacksmith, careful not to disturb a pile of dangerous-looking sharpening tools. Finally noticing her stealthy approach, Cal yelps, ceasing his work instantly and attempts to hide his project behind his back, snapping shut a small box, lying open on the far end of the construction table placed conveniently between the pair.

"Rayla!" he squeaks. "What are you doing here?" he asks, trying to sound casual, leaning awkwardly on the table, blocking her view of the tiny box.

More interested by the shiny mystery objects glinting from behind him, she asks coyly, "What's that?"

With his free hand, he slides his goggles up his forehead, revealing owl-like soot marks around his eyes and Rayla smiles affectionately at his adorableness.

"Nothing," he brushes off, too quickly, panicked eyes darting back to the box.

Noticing his distraction, she finally clocks the small object, making a grab for it before he can even react.

Dancing out of his reach, box in hand, Rayla pries open the soft velvet lid and gasps at the beautiful diamond ring nestled in a plush velvet cushion.

"You made this?" she whispers in awe.

Pulling of his leather gloves, he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. "It was supposed to be a surprise," he admits, lying the half-finished dual blades he was hiding behind his back on the construction table so that he can take her dainty hand in his. "These too," he says, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. "Rayla, I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he murmurs lovingly. "I want to grow old with you."

He takes the ring from the box and slides it onto her finger, but she pulls away, as if she'd been burned.

"No," she says quietly, tears brimming. "How could I have been so stupid?" She berates herself and pushes him away, stumbling towards the door, past a confused Ez and knocks over a pile of unfinished pots and pans so he can't follow, leaving Cal feeling as though his heart has just been ripped to shreds.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Claudia had heard Rayla sneak inside the quiet sanctuary of the library and, for the past minute or so, has been trying to ignore the quiet sniffles, but guilt bubbles in the pit of her stomach and it's eating away at her. Sighing, she sets her book down on the table and peers around the bookshelf into the secluded alcove, where the elf sits, lost in thought, staring at the diamond ring on her finger and wiping a stray tear with her free hand.

"Callum is one of the kindest people I know," she says gently. "You're lucky it's him."

Startled, Rayla looks up, instantly recognising the mage that had once threatened to kill her. "You think I don't know?" She questions a little tersely, but immediately regrets it; the human was evidently trying to be civil. "I love him," she tells her candidly, her bloodshot eyes meet Claudia's and despite her shame at being caught looking so weak, she does not avert her eyes.

"Did he do something to you?" she asks, disbelieving.

She shakes her head weakly. "It's not that...," she hiccups. "He loves me too," she blushes scarlet red. "But...," she starts before finding she neither has words nor the will to continue.

"I know you don't think I'd make a good confidant, but I've known Cal for years so maybe...," she places a reassuring hand on Rayla's shoulder and helps her to stand, "...I can help?"

Her rigorous training regime meant that she'd never had time to make any close girl friends, but Claudia's ability to forget the past and move on allows Rayla to be willing to make amends, drawn to her glowing personality, she briefly smiles warmly at the other girl.

"Trust me to fall for a human," she starts, grimacing at her words.

"I don't follow," Claudia admits, confused.

"Humans have such short life expectancies!" she cries, distraught. "He told me he wanted to grow old together, but it doesn't work that way," Rayla can't hide the pain in her voice. "If I could give him half of my life, I would," she says feebly. "I just can't... I can't live without him."

She's unable to form another word before she dissolves into tears.

Suddenly, inspiration strikes Claudia, but she isn't ready to give her new friend false hope, in case she's mistaken. Trying to disguise her burning need to raid the library's collection of Xadian textbooks she rushes a farewell. "Do you hear that? I think Soren's calling me...," hoping she doesn't sound rude, she pulls Rayla into an apologetic hug. "I'm sure it'll work out... eventually."

And just like that, she hastily dashes out of sight.

Either Rayla's going deaf, or Claudia is lying to her because Soren hadn't called for her. She doesn't know Claudia well, but this kind of behaviour can only mean one thing; Claudia's hiding something. Something to do with her curse of longevity, so naturally, Rayla decides to find out what. After all, she has a right to know.

Putting her abilities to good use, she scales the tall bookshelves and surreptitiously follows Claudia through the maze of bookshelves. She peruses the volumes for a few minutes before pausing on a section labelled Xadian Magic.

Now I wonder what you want with those, thinks Rayla, settling down for what would prove to be an incredibly boring stakeout.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The kingdom of Katolis stretches hundreds of miles in every direction, as far as the eye can see. Fluffy white clouds float idly through the baby blue sky, casting patches of shade on to the picture-perfect scenery and, for a moment, Cal feels completely detached from all his emotions; free to drift peacefully through the sky.

The roof is cool to the touch, but the sun warms his skin and he doesn't mind the chilly breezes that come with being up so high. Leaning into the slope of the roof tiles he tries to lose himself in the crystal-clear sky, but his vision blurs and he's shaken from his pleasant reverie with thoughts of her. Normally, his daydreams were filled with the beautiful Moonshadow elf, but ever since this morning, his mind continues to replay the moment she broke his heart.

What did I do wrong? Last night, she tells me she loves me, and now she can't stand me. He wracks his brain for anything he might have done to hurt her, but comes up blank.

His eyes hurt from holding back tears and a dull ache emanating from his temples is just the precursor to one hell of a migraine. Blocking out the bright sunlight with his forearm, he sighs, why do women have to be so complicated?

"Found it!" Claudia cries into the seemingly empty library, startling Rayla from her boredom-induced slumber.

Disorientated, she rolls over and off the top of the bookshelf, to the floor, knocking the wind out of her chest upon impact. Claudia pushes back from the table, standing quickly and making a grab for the hardback, leather-bound textbook, but Rayla recovers quickly and snatches it from her grasp, dancing out of her reach.

"Don't-," she tries to stop her from reading the text, unprepared to share her discovery just yet.

"Xadian Mystic Arts; The Soul Tree," Rayla reads aloud. Her eyes scan the page and Claudia can see the cogs in her mind turn. "Claudia, this is brilliant!"

Claudia know the solution is genius, but she wanted Rayla to be in the right state of mind before she found out, otherwise she might make a rash decision; emotion clouding her judgement.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asks, raising an eyebrow to subtlety express her scepticism.

Rayla's reply is dangerously decisive. "Absolutely!"

"You know Callum will never agree-," both girls know him well enough to be certain he would have strong objections to this solution.

"He trusts me," Rayla tells her, with finality.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

By the time Callum saunters back to his quarters, dinner has been and gone, but he doesn't mind; he isn't hungry. He knows he won't get any sleep with his mind in turmoil and a broken heart so he lights the lamp resting on his solid oak desk and opens his sketchbook that's lying opposite. The first thing he notices is the tiny square of paper tucked inside the cover, the corner poking out, just a little, so he wouldn't miss it. When he illuminates the curly cursive writing, it reads:

Meet me in the gardens at ten o'clock.

He flips the card over, searching for more information, but the cryptic message is all he has to go on. Obviously, it's from Rayla, but the single line of text tells him nothing of how she feels. Why does she want to meet me? Is she mad? Did I hurt her? He starts to spiral before he catches sight of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, telling him he has two minutes to rush all the way to the other side of the castle. The note flutters to the ground as Callum sprints out the the door, towards the gardens, nerves bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

After her discovery in the library, Rayla had wanted nothing more than to find Cal and tell him the good news, but, after searching every inch of the palace and not finding any sign of the oldest prince, Rayla realises that this is probably for the best. She had no idea what she was going to tell him, she needed time to think. She slipped the note inside his sketchbook, hoping that by the time they rendezvous at the bandstand she has a strong resolve and knows how to break this to Cal.

So now she sits at the meeting point, bathed in the pale moonlight, subconsciously digging her nails into the thick leather cover of the book Claudia found for her and anxiously awaiting his arrival. She's been planning what to say for hours, but none of that matters once she catches sight of Callum, rounding the corner, looking like he's just run a marathon and clearly as fretful about this as she is. Why was I so worried about this? She questions herself, It's Callum, I can talk to him about anything.

Cal is too out of breath to say anything, so she takes the opportunity to apologise for her actions that morning, knowing that she had definitely made matters worse.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"Wait, what are you sorry for? I thought you were mad at me," he wheezes, still not completely recovered from his mad dash to get here on time.

Rayla shakes her head, "You've seen mad. We both know that wasn't it," she says, earning a small chuckle. The mood lifts slightly and Rayla closes the distance between them.

Confused he asks, "Then what?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you what was wrong," she tells him, lacing their fingers together. With a deep breath, she steels her nerves; it's now or never.

"Elves can live for hundreds of years," she says bluntly. His face falls in comprehension, "So you can see why this morning, when you told me you wanted to grow old together, it was a wakeup call, reminding me that that wasn't going to happen."

Callum suddenly feels incredibly guilty for putting her through that alone, regardless of his obliviousness, "Rayla, I am so sorry. I had no idea."

"Don't be. Because, I already have a solution. You probably won't like it, but keep an open mind. Please, for me."

Now for the hard part.

"I'm listening."

"Deep in The Enchanted Forests of Xadia, there's this magical tree, home to nature spirits who have the ability to tie souls together, sharing life between two people," she opens the book to the relevant pages depicting a giant sycamore tree, "Callum, I can give you half of my life," she summarises, studying his face hopefully.

"No," he isn't angry, just dismissive.

"This morning, you thought I had a sub-century life expectancy too! Why don't you want this?" Rayla didn't think he could be this dense.

His reply is intense, "I couldn't live with myself, knowing you'd made that sacrifice."

"And I couldn't live without you! Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't do the same for me," she retorts, passionately.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he admits, knowing his own argument would take a hit for his honesty.

"Then please, let me do this," she begs.

He pulls her into a tight cuddle that they both need.

"If this is what you really want, then I won't stop you. I will always stand by you."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

They set off at sunrise; the fiery glow of daybreak has barely touched the edges of the horizon and the air is still crisp with the idea of darkness. The cobbled path of the city quickly falls away as they leave the comfort of the castle behind them. This isn't the first time Cal's felt the same thrilling excitement of adventure; though this time the stakes are more personal than the fate of the continent.

This time, they ride on horseback. A first for Rayla, who had initially wanted to ride solo until she quickly discovered how difficult the sport could be and that riding with Cal meant being in his strong arms for the entirety of the journey. The novelty quickly wears off, however, as Rayla wishes her saddle came with extra padding.

Neither of them had expected to leave this soon, but when they approached the council with their plan, they had been met with nothing but approval and the insistence to embark on their mission immediately.

"We had discussed this particular form of magic, but it only works on soul mates," the head elven diplomat had told them, a smile played on her lips; the only sign that she knew that the spell would indeed be effective.

"Once the discussions are over, we want to leave as soon as possible," Rayla replied and Callum nodded in agreement.

The head elven diplomat raised a hand in objection. "No..."

Callum's face was painted with confusion when he asked, "No?"

"No, you will leave at daybreak. Tomorrow," she clarified.

"Surely the wedding takes priority. Rayla bound herself," he objects, looking to Rayla for confirmation.

"Actually, I promised that I would do everything in my power to secure the marriage alliance by the summer solstice."

She hadn't meant to keep it a secret, but at Cal's crestfallen face, she knew he deserved an apology. She placed a light kiss on his cheek and his face softened. After all, it did take the pressure off their situation.

The head even diplomat had remained silent during their little display of affection but spoke up to make her final point."Regardless, there is one other condition to the soul binding."

"And that is...?" Rayla asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Chastity."

Thinking about it still makes Rayla blush crimson; she hadn't even thought about... that. Under different circumstances, she and Cal would've taken things slow, but they can't afford that luxury. Because of that, Rayla finds that she enjoys the little things he does all the more; it makes what she and Cal have seem... normal.

Suddenly, she hears his voice in her ear. "You cold?" he asks.

She nods, expecting him just to pull her into his warm chest, but instead, he shrugs off his soft hooded cloak and drapes it over her shoulders, wrapping his arms around her. She smiles, turning to plant a kiss on his nose and sighing contentedly. This is all she's ever wanted.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

It takes four days to ride into the heart of the Enchanted Forest, their progress hindered the closer they get to their destination as the thick mass of trees becomes denser the further they go. When they finally burst through the thicket, a lush clearing unfolds at the foot of an ancient tree. Broken sunlight reaches the clearing floor through the leafy blanket above, the only other source of light flowing from the bioluminescence of various species of magical mushrooms carpeting the base of the wide trunk.

Dismounting, Amaya tethers her horse to the nearest gnarled branch and starts signing to Gren.

"Is this the place?" he translates.

The moonshadow elves nod, but it's Prince Ezran who answers.

"Buttercup says this is the spot," he says, feeding his horse a carrot out of one of her saddle bags.

The elves share confused looks with one another, but Cal and Rayla had accepted long ago that Ez truly has a gift. Cal slides off his horse, significantly less clumsily than previous attempts and helps Rayla to dismount. She thanks Cal's horse, a midnight black steed with a coat as soft as silk, tossing the saddle to one side and grooming his ebony mane, she rubs his back for a job well done.

Even the humans can sense a strong magical presence eminating from deep within the enormous sycamore tree and the sheer power is unnerving.

Eyeing the soul tree with intrest, Cal asks, "So what happens now?"

"Now, we call upon the spirits," one of the elven elders whispers with reverence. "You must kneel before the tree and say what it is that you ask for."

Taking Callum's hand in hers, Rayla leads him towards the centre of the clearing, brushing past the magical fungi that glimmers a brighter neon when touched. Finally, they reach the centre of the labyrinth of twisted roots and kneel at the foot of the sycamore.

"Great spirits, please hear our wish; bind our souls together and balance our life spans," she begs. This is their only chance; she needs this to work.

For a moment, nothing happens and the anticipation is palpable. Just before disappointment sets in, the surface of the bark starts to shift and change almost imperceptibly.

As if awakening from a deep slumber, segments of the bark begin to break away, creating vaguely humanoid beings that move stiffly as they pull themselves free. Their tough skin starts to crumble away, refining their features, and their movements become less laboured. The moss and bark melts away revealing beautifully rich green skin and thick, shiny locks of emerald hair. Each spirit wears a slinky form-fitting dress, a different hue of iridescent green with detailing around the hem like pearls.

"Your wish has been heard, child," the nearest of the spirits smiles, lifting Rayla's bowed head with a slender hand.

She produces a silver chalice engraved with ancient draconic runes from thin air, gesturing for them to rise.

"This," -she gestures to the goblet- "is sap from the soul tree. It has many magical properties, one of which is the ability to form a special bond between soul mates. All you need to do is combine it with a drop of blood from you both and the potion is complete. Drink it and you shall have what you desire." Her voice has all the qualities of someone with millennia worth of wisdom, but her face is untouched by age.

Realising that now would be the perfect opportunity to gift Rayla the dual blades he'd fashioned to celebrate their engagement, Callum retrieves the weapons from the satchel at his hip. Handing one to her, they each make a tiny nick in the palm of their hands, and squeeze a droplet of blood into the silver goblet. It briefly fizzes and the potion turns deep vermillion before returning to a neutral honey colour. Cal takes the first sip, the mixture sweet on his tongue. Rayla does the same, then hands the empty cup back to the spirit and they wait for the spell to take effect.

Suddenly, Rayla releases a sharp gasp and a rattling cough. Her eyes bulge as she tries to breathe, but she can't; she's choking.

"Rayla!" Cal cries, "What did you do to her?" he accuses.

Rayla collapses to the ground, blood seeping through her fingers and Callum rushes to her side.

"I didn't do anything," the spirit whispers sadly. "Her love for you wasn't true and this is the price she must pay."

"You're lying!" Rayla loves him. He knows it. The spirit's words cut like a knife, but Rayla sputters violently reminding him where his priorities lie. "What do I do? There must be something I can do to save her!" he pleads frantically.

"Only one thing can spare her," she replies sagely.

Cal cradles Rayla's dying form in his arms; she's fading fast.

"I swear, I'll do anything!"

Levitating the fallen blade off the ground and offering the handle to Cal, the nature spirit's face is solemn. All of the spirits' eyes turn pure white and they speak in unison.

"To break the spell that binds the moonshadow elf, you must take your own life."


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Hesitantly, Callum plucks the blade out of the air and gulps. Blood trickles out from the corners of Rayla's mouth and his resolve solidifies. Even if she doesn't love him; even if they aren't soul mates, to Callum, it doesn't matter. He loves her with all his heart and he'll do whatever it takes to protect her.

With an iron grip, he turns the blade towards his own chest and plunges the steel deep into his ribcage. A searing hot pain blossoms in his heart and bleeds through his abdomen. He releases a sharp cry of pain followed by a gaspy whimper as sticky scarlet blood stains his white cotton shirt. With a final rattling breath and the taste of iron still fresh in his mouth, his vision blurs and white light erases his surroundings as he loses consciousness.

"Callum. Callum. Cal wake up, you're scaring me."

Someone's shaking his shoulder. They want him to wake up, but he can't; he's dead. He rolls over mumbling something that might have been, "Go away, I'm dead," but was indiscernible with a face full of luminous mushrooms.

Ezran leans down so that his mouth is beside his older brother's ear.

"CALLUM!" he yells, effectively shaking Callum back to earth.

He gasps, breathing coming easier than expected, and takes in the scene before him. The first thing he notices is that Rayla, who looks just as dazed and confused as he is, is sitting up, completely unharmed, wearing an expression of confusion-to-still-be-on-the-mortal-plane that only someone who's been there and done that can recognise. When she meets his eyes, relief flooding her pretty features, she throws her arms around his neck and he melts into her embrace.

Her voice still shakes when she speaks. "I thought you were going to die."

"I thought I was dead," he replies cockily.

Suddenly, everything starts to fit together perfectly, like a puzzle, as Cal figures out the missing pieces. They had entered some kind of trance where they had been shown an illusion of the other dying. Then, the spirits had delivered the ultimatum; save the one you love or save yourself. If Rayla's reaction was anything to go on, she'd made the same choice as he had.

Callum looks up from where he'd evidently collapsed to the floor after drinking the potion and gazes at the nature spirit closest to him. He'd originally pegged them as sweet and innocent but now, viewing their expression in a new light, all he sees are cool and calculating expressions, befitting of their wisdom, painted on each of their faces.

"It was a test," he realises.

They nod, thoughtfully. "And you passed. Most don't." One comments appraisingly.

"Wait, so it worked?" Rayla asks hopefully.

At their affirmation, Rayla's hands go to her mouth in joy and she releases a happy gasp. Finally, she and Cal can have what she's always dreamed of. Moving her hands to the sides Callum's face, she initiates a long, romantic kiss, which he deepens, placing a hand tenderly on her waist and using the other to smooth her snow-white hair. She runs her delicate fingers through his chocolate brown locks, giggling softly when they break apart for air.

"Marry me," she purrs.

Even if they weren't already engaged, his answer would be the same.

"Gladly."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Despite being hastily put together, the deep pockets of royalty and hundreds of servants at their disposal meant that their wedding ended up being one of the most glamorous events since King Harrow wed Lady Sarai.

With the combined efforts of elves and humans, preparations for the ceremony had gone without a hitch, yet Rayla feels no less anxious. Used to being in control, she feels at odds having been cut out of the decision making process. Her maids hadn't even allowed her the privilege of dressing herself this morning, but that turned out to be blessing in disguise as she reasons that they had given her a look more beautiful than she would've been able to achieve herself.

One of the few decisions that she had made completely unaided was her choice of dress; an exquisite, strapless, fishtail, ivory gown with a plunging neckline and a long, gossamer train flowing elegantly behind her. It shifts almost weightlessly around her ankles, contrasting where the sleek fabric of the dress clings tightly to her bust, highlighting her slim figure. The seamstress had followed her instructions perfectly in crafting this stunning bespoke dress and had turned her vision into a reality. Smoothing out imaginary wrinkles and twirling in front of her full length mirror, she admires her reflection.

"Rayla, you look amazing!" Ellis squeals excitedly. She's wearing Rayla's chiffon veil and sits perched on the older girl's king sized bed, plaiting Claudia's jet-black hair absentmindedly, occasionally stroking the large wolf lounging in the centre of the mattress.

Ellis and her family had arrived at the palace yesterday morning and ever since, the two had been inseparable, exchanging witty, teasing comments about the other's love life, resulting in Rayla's conclusive victory as she is the one getting married today. As for Claudia, she had been instantly enamoured with her majestic wolf, Ava, and made fast friends with Ellis, her fellow bridesmaid.

Both girls are wearing matching silver dresses paired with delicate flower wreaths cut from the same sparkling material.

Lifting the veil off the youngest girl's head, Claudia glides towards the bride and fixes it into Rayla's snow white hair. After tweaking her braids so that the veil rests neatly around her horns, she stands back and admires her handiwork.

"Perfect," she smiles, clasping her hands together.

A knock at her bedroom door tells the girls that they're out of time.

Ushering her out of the door, they pull her into a loving group hug, wishing her good luck. Claudia gently presses the bouquet of porcelain coloured carnations and hydrangeas into Rayla's hands and whispers softly in her ear.

"Don't keep him waiting!"

–O–

General Amaya made Callum promise that he would stick to tradition and not turn around. As a man of his word, he doesn't. Not even as the string orchestra starts playing the traditional tune. Not even when he hears gasps of delight as everybody but him takes in Rayla's beauty. In fact, the moment she joins him at the altar is the first time he's laid eyes on her all day.

They'd chosen to hold the ceremony in the floral garden where they'd shared their first kiss, confessing their love for one another. In the past fortnight it had undergone drastic changes, being transformed from the quiet, secluded garden into a suitable venue, able to accommodate almost one hundred guests. Rows of chairs are placed neatly in front of the bandstand that now serves as the altar, forming the aisle in the gap between. It looks perfect; naturally simplistic. Enhanced by the pinkish glow of the setting sun.

Callum had only been able to watch his aunt's face change, trying to decipher her expression as the wedding unfolds behind him, but when he receives a subtle nod from Amaya, he turns to face his bride.

She's breath-taking. There are no words to describe her beauty; she looks like an angel - his angel. Enraptured, he's unsure how he managed to pay any attention to the ceremony, only managing to truly focus when she makes her vows.

"As a moonshadow elf, the full moon brings me great power. Yet, that's not when I feel at my most powerful," her words have been carefully selected so that she can say this eloquently. "I feel strongest when I'm with you, Cal."

His words die in his mouth. How can he even begin to follow such a wonderful sentiment?

He takes a deep breath and pours his heart out in his words. "I love you. I love everything about you. You're my other half; my best friend and I'm so lucky to have met you."

It's too generic, and his love for her is anything but.

There's more he needs to say, but he doesn't know how. Suddenly, inspiration strikes and he knows how to finish.

"From the moment we met, you made me feel different; like I actually mattered. So I want to make you feel the same, every day for the rest of my life," he improvises, finally being able to put his feelings into words.

General Amaya, who is officiating the wedding, snaps Commander Gren back into action as she begins signing.

"You may now kiss the bride," Gren smiles gleefully, this time being the one to send Amaya an approving look, admitting that her crazy plan was somehow a complete success.

On the Commander's cue, Rayla tosses her bouquet into the crowd, freeing her arms to wrap around her husband's neck. She doesn't even watch to see the flowers plop into Ellis' empty lap, who makes the mistake of looking to Ez, causing a crimson blush to spread across both their faces.

With a grin, Callum dips her into a low kiss, his strong arms supporting her, his hand gripping the silky material of the dress at the small of her back. His lips are warm and soft against hers and the kiss grows deeper and more loving with every passing second. Her eyes are shut and she loses herself in the moment, oblivious to the silver band turning scarlet, unbinding her and floating away; caught in the current of the wind.

The End


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